The Chaos and the Quiet

I am sitting in our staff room looking out over the Las Vegas valley.  I can see all the way from Mandalay Bay to the Stratosphere and up to Freemont Street.  Beyond that I can see the desert stretching out toward Hoover Dam to the east, Red Rock canyon to the west, and Mount Charleston to the north.  It is hot and the sun is shining.      

Not everyone likes the desert.
Not everyone likes Las Vegas.
I do.
I love them both.

I've never felt more at home than I do in this city.
I've never felt more at home than I do in the desert.

I love that I can be in the middle of the Venetian one moment, lost amidst the crowds, neon, music, entertainment, sights and sounds of chaos, and the next I can be alone in the middle of the desert, lost amidst the rocks and dirt, cactus and tumbleweeds, snakes and scorpions, sights and sounds of silence.

I need both.
That is how I am wired.
The day in and day out of sitting in an office doesn't work for me.
I don't think creatively or strategically surrounded by four walls all the time.
I often meet God in the middle of the casinos.
I often meet God alone in the desert.

At times I need to feel God at work in the chaos of this city to know that He is still at work in the chaos of my life.
At times I need to feel God at work in the quiet of the desert to know that even when I don't sense him or feel him or hear from him, I know He is still at work even when everything seems quiet.